We’ve already discussed the fact that I am not afraid of ants, since it’s ridiculous to fear a non-poisonous creature 1/54,000,000 my size. I hate them instead, because burning rage at God’s creatures for their inherent species characteristics is perfectly reasonable.
The ants made a move Sunday morning that I’m not sure how to interpret. It seems like they are trying to change our arrangement, but I can’t tell what direction they are hoping to take.
That’s right—I took a swig from my water bottle and subsequently pulled a live ant out of my mouth.
I’m uncomfortable with the speed at which the ants seem to want our relationship to progress.